


Crowned with Ivy, Dripping in Honey

by lucymonster



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Light Bondage, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sex Pollen, The Force Made Them Do It, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-08-25 14:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16662693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymonster/pseuds/lucymonster
Summary: The sacred texts mention the artifact in passing: the ancient people who built these halls once used it for their ‘rituals’. That’s all they say about it. Apparently even the great Jedi scribes didn’t know exactly what the rituals were.Even if they'd warned her in words of one syllable, Rey's not sure she would have believed it. But that's beside the point now.





	Crowned with Ivy, Dripping in Honey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ambiguously](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/gifts).



After such a long time fighting just to stay afloat, victory feels good.

They’ve followed their lead to a lush green planet in the Astal sector. The temple is in disrepair, webbed with vines and bristling with ferns that protrude from every crack in the flagstones. The air is rich with the wet, woody scent of decaying plant matter. At the end of the hall, between two towering pillars, the artifact sits atop a pedestal casting a warm glow over the dais.

It’s beautiful, a perfect orb of translucent crystal shot through with golden veins. No one knows exactly what it’s for. The sacred texts mention it in passing: the ancient people who built these halls once used it for their ‘rituals’. That’s all the texts say about it, quote marks and all. Apparently even the great Jedi scribes didn’t know exactly what the rituals were, or else didn’t want to say.

But the details don’t matter. The artifact is strong with the Force. Kylo Ren wants it, so the Resistance wants to make sure he doesn’t get it. It’s not often these days that they find themselves ahead of him, but they’re here with the artifact in their grasp and there’s no sign anywhere of the First Order. By the time the enemy troops arrive, it’ll be long gone.

Oh, yes, victory feels good.

‘Fuck, Rey.’ Finn’s chest heaves as he pins her to the column, breathing raggedly into the crook of her neck. She wraps her legs around his waist and feels him hard against her. Their clothes are in the way and she’s dizzy with want.

‘Get these off. Now.’ It’s impossible to think when he’s mouthing at her throat like that. The urgency that has taken them over has nothing to do with their mission and everything to do with the way the glowing light spilled over Finn when he stepped up on the dais. It’s still on him now, highlighting his cheekbones with a dusky sunset glow. Rey has never seen anything more beautiful.

Finn fumbles with his trousers, trying to shed them without pulling away from her. Sweat beads on Rey’s brow as she arches into Finn and pants for breath. Maybe it’s the thrill of success making everything so much more acute than it should be. Maybe it’s the strength of the Force that’s urging them together, blurring the boundaries of self until Rey can feel Finn’s pleasure like it’s her own. This isn’t how things work between them. They’re friends – sure, friends who sometimes they help get each other off, and sure, there’s been a time or two (or three, or four) when she looked at him and felt something more than the friendly affection she tells herself is all she has time for. She certainly doesn’t have time for it _now_. But it’s never been like this before. This urgency. This all-consuming need. This desperation, like she’s empty without him inside her.

If she lifts her hips higher, Finn can push her leggings down her thighs and free his cock. In the warm, enticing glow of the orb, that’s as far as foreplay needs to go. He shoves inside her. Swears aloud and claws at her hips, but Rey’s too lost in the sudden blissful stretch to pay much notice to a few little scratches. She can feel every inch of him inside her. Can feel – oh, this is so strange and wonderful – can feel how tight she is around him, how much he needs this, how perfectly the two of them fit together. Like this is how things have always been. Like they’ve found their true reason for coming to this planet.

They move together, skin on skin, and in the back of her mind a voice is screaming: _something’s wrong_.

She wraps her arms and legs around Finn and squeezes tight, urging him on. There’s a groaning sound, a rumbling beyond the purr that’s coming from his throat – strong wind outside the temple, as if the weather itself shares their frenzy. It was quiet and stuffy when they arrived. Maybe there’s a storm coming. The atmosphere feels heavy enough that Rey would welcome a break in the pressure, even if it makes their launch back off the planet harder.

Harder. _Harder_. ‘Finn,’ she gasps, and the pleasure builds as Finn’s deep thrusts hit that perfect place inside her. The roar of their breath is growing louder, and Rey can hear her own heartbeat thrumming in her ears like the engine pulse of a shuttle coming down to land. She clenches tight and feeling the responding throb like it’s her own body as much as his –

_Like a shuttle coming down to land._

‘Finn,’ she says again.

‘I know.’ Finn’s voice is rough, and he cups her ass to hold her firmer against him. ‘Are you close? Fuck, please tell me you’re close, I don’t know how much longer I can–’

‘No, listen!’ It takes every ounce of Rey’s willpower not to close her eyes and give into distraction. Finn stills inside her, and in the moment of torturous reprieve, Rey hears the tramp of boots and the sound of muffled voices drawing closer.

‘Oh, shit,’ says Finn.

In the mad rush for safety that follows, Rey hardly even knows if they've been seen or not. She’s empty, aching, still dripping wet, her leggings scrunched up and half-tied around her hips. They snatch the artifact and make it out the back door just in time to see the first stormtrooper cross the threshold, and Rey guards their cover with sweaty hands gripping her lightsaber hilt while Finn stuffs his cock away and does up his belt. They run. They’re probably leaving a trail, but right now that matters less than the simple goal of putting as much distance between them and the First Order as possible.

Adrenaline floods Rey’s bloodstream and pounds between her legs. Finn’s right beside her, and watching him run, she’s seized with the mad urge to abandon their flight and pin him to the ground so she can straddle him and pick up what the enemy just interrupted.

It’s insane. _She’s_ insane. It’s over: the stress of Resistance life has finally cracked her.

‘Our shuttle’s not far,’ Finn pants, his voice ragged and unbearably attractive. ‘If we can make it there, we should be able to – oh, fucking hell, Rey, you should see what your chest does when you run like that.’

‘Eyes ahead,’ Rey snarls, and keeps running. At least she’s not the only one.

* * *

They don’t make it to the shuttle. About halfway down the road between the temple and the landing flat, they spot a First Order patrol ahead and are forced to veer off into trees. The thick green canopy swallows them whole, and Finn wraps his jacket around the orb to keep its light from betraying their presence.

With no clear view of the sun overhead, and no time to stop and check a compass, it’s impossible to keep track of their direction. What starts off as a straightish westward path quickly goes off course as they’re forced to follow whatever route the dense jungle flora chooses for them. Every which way, trees and tangled vines form impassable walls between them and safety. At least if the stormtroopers pick up their trail, they’ll have plenty of cover to run for.

‘I think we should stop,’ says Finn at last. He’s still breathless, but the sexy growl has faded from his voice. ‘They’ll never find us in this mess, and if we go much further we’ll never find our way back out.’

Rey nods, too breathless herself to speak, and drops her pack so she can rummage inside for a water bottle. It seems unfair that she stills need to drink when the air she’s breathing is about fifty percent water. Desert life prepared her for a lot of hardships, but this humidity is a new one, and her clothes cling unpleasantly to her sweaty, sticky skin.

She doesn’t dare shed a layer. Not after what just happened.

They sit for a while to recover. There’s no sound of troopers stomping towards them through the undergrowth, no shrill whirr of drones overhead, no rumble of an incoming air strike. It’s entirely possible the First Order haven’t even noticed they’re here. They’ve hidden their shuttle in a dense thicket off the landing flat and carefully erased all signs of its arrival, so if no one’s specifically looking for intruders, they might be able to get away with hiding here and waiting it out.

Finn keeps the orb wrapped in his jacket. He keeps glancing at it, though, and Rey’s painfully aware of the faint glow oozing out between the seams.

‘I can’t believe your books didn’t warn us,’ he says at last.

‘I think they tried to,’ says Rey. She’s thinking about those heavily inked quote marks around the word _rituals_ , and all the carefully vague language that in retrospect sounds more than a little euphemistic. Who would have thought the great Jedi scribes had a dirty sense of humour? But there’s absolutely no doubt any more what the orb’s real powers are. Even if the books had warned her in words of one syllable, she’s not sure she’d have believed them.

‘Do you think Kylo Ren knows?’ asks Finn after another short silence.

‘No,’ says Rey firmly. ‘No, I’m sure he doesn’t.’

Rey’s bond with Kylo Ren is something she prefers not to share with even her closest friend. Honestly, it’s bad enough just having to share it with Kylo. The Force still connects them now and then, despite her best efforts to block it out. Sometimes she gets the full corporeal experience. More often it comes through in fragments of shared feeling and arbitrary insight: a hot surge of anger while she’s relaxing in the bath, or of deep fatigue when she’s just woken up fresh from a good night’s sleep, or a sudden realisation in the middle of dinner that the captain of a nearby warship is making contact over the executive channel.

Because the Force has no sense of propriety, it also sometimes connects them at awkward moments. That’s why Rey knows with authority that Kylo keeps an empty bed. She also knows that his interest in her, twisted and dangerous as it is, has never been exactly chaste – but for a man with so little impulse control, he’s surprisingly good at keeping those particular feelings to himself. She can’t imagine he’d have much use in his life for ancient sex magic. He just doesn’t seem the type.

‘I guess not.’ Finn looks a little disappointed, and for a split second, Rey wonders if maybe she’s not the only Resistance member who has guiltily noticed the appealing outer casing on Kylo’s malignant personality. ‘Man, I almost wish he’d gotten there first. Can you imagine his face? He goes in expecting some kind of powerful superweapon that’s gonna help him crush the galaxy under his boot, and then…’ He mimes jerking off, hand moving so fast that it’s almost a blur.

‘Oh, don’t,’ says Rey, much more grumpily than she means to. The gesture is crude and mocking and not remotely erotic, but she’s still on edge from the interrupted sex before, and the orb’s muffled power is a constant niggling presence in the back of her mind. Thinking about _that_ isn’t going to help.

It’s not worth the risk of letting it get to her. The First Order might not know they’re here, but they might also be tracking their path through the jungle right this second, and it would really kill the mood if a hit squad were to show up and catch her and Finn in flagrante delicto.

Finn sighs and leans back against a tree, wiping sweat from his brow. It’s a good thing he seems to have reached the same conclusion, because Rey’s not sure she’d have the willpower to turn him down if he offered to pick up what they left off in the temple. ‘Guess we’ll just have to wait,’ he says. ‘If there’s no sign of them by the time it gets dark, let’s try sneaking back and see if we can make it to the shuttle unnoticed.’

It’s long odds on anything being that easy. But in the suffocating heat of the jungle, with frustrated arousal still throbbing between her legs, Rey doesn’t have the wits left to think up a better plan.

* * *

The sky outside the canopy goes dark, and no one fires on them from behind a tree or nukes their hiding place from orbit, so Rey starts to hope that maybe they’ve escaped the First Order’s notice after all. In the deepening twilight, the task of following their tracks back into the open goes from daunting to impossible – but there’s a compass in Rey’s bag and they know they’re parked somewhere on the eastern side of the jungle, so they’re just going to have to walk back in that general direction and hope they end up in the right place.

They tread as carefully as they can through the undergrowth. As the sun sinks lower, a chorus of insects come awake, and the sound of their footsteps is swallowed by the droning buzz. It helps cover their movements, but it also explains why they fail to notice the danger until it’s too late.

There’s still no sign of a break in the trees. They must be nearing the edge, though, because the air’s getting fresher and there’s a welcome break in the stifling humidity. Finn has his blaster holstered so he can carry the orb safely. Rey has her lightsaber tucked away so she can use both hands to forge a path through the wilderness. She pushes through a thicket of branches and holds them aside for Finn, when suddenly –

‘Don’t move.’

Kylo Ren, unlike them, has both hands on his weapon. Not the weapon that the coy Jedi scribes might have meant if they were writing this story down. His actual weapon. The one he could use to kill both Rey and Finn in the blink of a fiery red-lit eye.

‘I knew I’d find you here somewhere,’ Kylo says. ‘I sensed your presence the moment I made planetfall.’

Rey holds still. Her eyes dart around the scene, absorbing as much strategic detail as she can. It’s just Kylo – no sign of the stormtroopers who cleared his way in the temple. That’s good. Kylo by himself, she can deal with. If she can just reach the hilt of her–

‘I mean it,’ says Kylo. He takes a step forward and extends his lightsaber so that the tip of the unstable plasma blade hovers below Rey’s chin. ‘You’ll be dead before you can press the emitter. I don’t know how you found out about this place, and I don’t care. You’ve stolen something that belongs to me. Hand it over now and I’ll consider letting you live.’

She should probably feel fear with a blade pointed right at her throat. But here’s the thing: it’s not like they’ve had a chance to hide the orb, or do anything clever with it. It’s right there in Finn’s hands. If Kylo wanted to kill her, he could do it right now and save himself the trouble of making threats. ‘Oh, come off it,’ she snaps. ‘Have you been waiting here the whole day just to ambush us? Aren’t you getting hot, dressed like that?’

Behind her, she hears Finn splutter. He has no idea that Force-augmented impact of Kylo Ren’s presence has long since worn off on her: she’s seen him naked in the shower and eating muesli in his pyjamas, and it’s hard to feel much in the way of terror after that.

‘Hot as balls,’ Kylo admits with a reluctant huff. And then: ‘Give it up, Rey. I didn’t come here for a bloodbath. I just want what the traitor’s holding and then I’m gone.’

She holds his gaze. The lightsaber’s flame reflects off his dark eyes, and Rey feels a strange little pang of emotion: amusement and scorn and sadness all at once. Even compared to Kylo’s usual power-grabbing schemes, this one is particularly ill-advised. ‘Bit of friendly advice,’ she says, and more than half-means it. ‘You really don’t want what Finn’s holding. Trust me.’

‘Rey,’ Finn groans, ‘please don’t rattle his cage.’ His voice sounds strained. ‘If he wants the orb, he can have it. It’s not like we can stop him from taking it.’

Kylo’s spite-fuelled ego visibly inflates as he says, ‘You’re right, you can’t stop me. Hand it over.’

‘It’s not about whether we can stop you,’ says Rey, with more patience than Kylo deserves. ‘It’s about whether you understand what you’re getting us all into. Do you even know what that thing does? Because Finn and I–’

It happens so fast that she doesn’t have a chance to react. She really should have predicted it – Kylo has always had a habit of snatching. With a shudder, the orb slips from Finn’s grip and soars into Kylo’s outstretched hand, casting its light over the darkened jungle and his triumphant face.

He lifts it up. Gazes deep into the crystal depths. Blinks. Lowers it, and looks up at Finn and Rey, then back down at the orb.

He blinks again. His tongue darts out to moisten his lips.

Oh,’ he says.

And then all three of them go mad. Rey’s ready for it, but she’s still taken aback by the speed and intensity with which her anger melts into a wet, hot pool of –

– anger, still, apparently. There’s nothing soft about the want she feels as she surges forward into the glowing sphere of light around Kylo and crushes her mouth to his, tasting his astonishment and the little gasp of pleasure-shock when she bites down hard on his lower lip. It’s a mark of how fast the orb has worked on _him_ that he yields so quickly. In the deepest, darkest recesses of her mind, Rey has always had a hunch that this is what he needs: a firm hand. Someone else to take control. ‘You’re an idiot,’ she tells him between furious kisses. ‘A reckless, arrogant, power-hungry idiot. Why did you even want the orb? Did you have a clue what it was actually for?’

‘I thought…’ Kylo swallows – she feels his Adam’s apple bob against her hand pressed to his throat. ‘The ancient scrolls said it was powerful. Um. _Rich and fertile with life-giving essence_.’

‘Rich and _fertile_?’

Kylo shakes his head, wide-eyed and helpless. ‘I didn’t know this would happen. Rey…’

‘New rule.’ It’s Finn who cuts him off. He steps up behind Rey, resting his hands on her hips and nuzzling the back of her neck, unfazed by the smell of stale jungle sweat on her skin. Rey’s insides turn to simmering liquid. ‘Ren’s banned from talking, okay? I don’t think I can do this if Ren keeps talking.’

Kylo looks like he has a retort brewing, but all that comes out of his mouth is a cut-off gasp when Rey cups between his legs and gives an exploratory squeeze. He’s completely hard, his body radiating heat through thick layers of black wool and leather. That won’t work. If he passes out from heat stroke, she won’t be able to do any of the things that the orb and her own long-suppressed impulses are screaming for her to do.

The Force crackles between them, lit up by the orb’s benevolent warmth, and Rey can feel _everything_. Three people’s arousal churning inside her, merged together and yet somehow distinct: there’s Finn, warm and familiar and full of affection, and Kylo, angry and shot through with desperation, and between them both an excitement that belongs only to her.

She wants both of them so much, for such completely different reasons.

‘I think we should gag him,’ says Finn. Even without seeing his face, she can feel his giddy excitement and the hard bulge of his arousal at her back. ‘Maybe tie him up, too, to be on the safe side. He’s still our enemy, even if that stupid orb’s making me want to suck him dry.’

Rey can’t find a flaw with his reasoning. As if it's the most natural thing in the world, they push Kylo back against a tree whose roots swell up in loops and knots above the ground. Rey strips him naked while Finn fashions makeshift binders from the straps of his satchel and lashes Kylo’s hands to a prominent root. It won’t hold for five minutes if he decides to try and escape, but he’s not showing any danger signs just yet. His eyes are almost all pupil. His cock, once she gets his trousers off, is flushed and hard against his stomach, and when she runs her fingertips up his inner thigh, his mouth falls open. Finn seizes the chance to stuff a rag between his teeth.

‘You’re lucky we don’t just tie you up and leave you here,’ Rey tells Kylo, tracing the crease of his groin and watching with fascination as he squirms. She’s dizzy with the thrill of a brand new power. ‘I want to see good behaviour for once, and then maybe this can end well for you too.’

He probably doesn’t even need the instruction. Her instincts are right: under all those layers of bluster and dominance, with his judgement suppressed and his inhibitions scattered, Kylo yields to orders like he’s never wanted anything more in his life than for Rey to tell him what to do. There’s probably some strategic value in that, if only she can think about it clearly. But she can’t. There are too many distractions. Too much wild energy coursing through her veins.

She hasn’t forgotten her unfinished business with Finn. The orb’s effect is too strong for them to wait much longer, and before Kylo has time to test his bonds, she grabs Finn by the front of his shirt and pulls him into a ferocious kiss. He knows her too well to have any doubt what she wants – what she needs. They lie back together on the soft, leaf-strewn ground, and Finn presses his mouth to her navel and tugs her leggings down her thighs.

She looks over at their captive, who hasn’t made even a token effort to escape his bonds – he’s staring transfixed at the two of them, at the path Finn’s tongue is tracing down Rey’s hipbone. Kylo’s lips are stretched wide around the cloth gag and his cheeks are flushed, and a stray thought somewhere in her brain catches a breeze to ride up above the lust-haze: this is insane. Literally insane. She’s lost in a jungle on an unknown planet with her best friend salivating between her legs and her least favourite galactic dictator naked and tied to a tree to watch.

And then Finn’s tongue finds her clit and the thought, along with all others, is gone.

He’s good at this. He was good to start with, and she’s taken plenty of time to train him, stroking his scalp and murmuring words of gentle feedback while he learns each intimate crease of her body. He dips a finger inside her and she’s sopping wet, clenching and fluttering around him, demanding more.

They’ve done this so many times before, but the desperation is something new. There’s an urgency, a panic-edged pleasure that lights her up like a beacon in the Force. She sees flashes of how it looks from outside, and that’s new, too: she sees her spine arching and her mouth falling open in a perfect ‘o’, and she feels unfamiliar anger and a ravenous hunger that’s fast approaching unbearable. Kylo can’t look away. He doesn’t know whether to watch Rey, writhing and half-exposed in her rumpled clothes, or Finn, kneeling between her legs with his mouth on her cunt. It hasn’t even occurred to him to wriggle out of his bonds. This orb-lit madness is his whole world right now – he’s lost in it.

She can feel Finn, too. How achingly hard he is. How badly he needs her, and oh, she wants more of this. Wants more of their pleasure, wants to give into insanity and let the boundaries between them melt away until everything they have to give is hers.

‘Fuck me,’ she says. It’s Kylo she’s looking at but it’s Finn who obeys, sitting up between her thighs and freeing his cock. He lifts her by the hips and pulls her onto him, sinking balls-deep with a single thrust and a shudder that she feels to her core. Kylo’s eyes go impossibly wide and she knows that he’s feeling it, too.

They move together, and the tension builds and spikes so fast that Rey can hardly tell where she ends and Finn starts. It’s like her nerves have picked up right back where they left off in the temple, and she’s halfway to gone already with the pleasure sparking in her core. Finn fucks her hard, eyes scrunched and teeth clenched, moaning when she tilts her hips to pull him deeper.

Kylo is as close to breaking point as she is to release: she can feel pressure building in the feedback loop between them as his nervous system struggles to make sense of the borrowed sensations. Finn lifts Rey’s hips higher, plunging in and out, and she can feel that he’s struggling too. Teetering on the brink, teeth gritted and eyes scrunched shut, hanging on for her sake. She clenches around him and he sobs for breath and says, ‘Fuck, Rey, I don’t know if I can do this. I think I’m gone. I think – oh–’

She hooks a leg up over Finn’s shoulder, and the change of angle makes her want to shout. His thumb finds her clit, helping her along, and in the end she can’t tell which of them falls first: it’s hard and fast and overwhelming, and bright spots shine behind Rey’s eyelids as she claws at Finn’s chest and lets the orb’s power overwhelm her.

They come down together in a daze of shudders and twitching limbs. She’s peripherally aware of Kylo’s gaze still boring into her, but for a few warm moments everything is Finn: his spent smile, his loose-limbed satisfaction, the tender affection as he looks down at her and strokes the sweaty hair from her face.

‘Damn,’ he says. ‘I didn’t know the Force could do that.’

It’s tempting just to collapse in a pile and enjoy the afterglow. But Kylo can’t be ignored for long: their link is still too strong, and she can feel his frustration throbbing in the air and cancelling out her blissful relaxation. The orb isn’t finished with them yet.

His mouth hangs open when she pull out the rag – it’s like his jaw muscles have forgotten how to work. She unties his hands, one and then the other, and feels thrilled to her core that he still doesn’t move to touch or grab. She can feel how badly he wants to. There’s a plea in his eyes, and he’s so overwrought that his limbs are starting to shake involuntarily.

‘You’re doing well,’ she says. More tender than she means to, but she’s intrigued by the effect of the praise: Kylo makes a quiet sound that’s unmistakably a whimper, and his cock gives an independent little twitch. ‘Lie back.’

She straddles his face and lets him grab her ass to support her weight. He kneads and strokes, greedily exploring, and she positions herself over his mouth with her legs braced on either side of his head. His tongue is sandpaper-dry from the gag but she’s so wet that it doesn’t matter, sloppy with her own arousal and Finn’s seed that Kylo has no choice but to swallow as he licks her clean. He’s less practiced than Finn, but the lack of finesse doesn’t matter too much – she’s sensitive from her first orgasm, and the muffled noises Kylo is making speak to something in her that she didn’t know she had.

A glance over her shoulder tells her Finn is watching with glazed eyes. ‘You can do what you want,’ she tells him. ‘He’s so desperate, he’ll take anything. Won’t you?’ Half suffocated between her legs, Kylo can’t answer. She’s not entirely sure he’s listening any more, and in fairness, her thighs are clamped pretty firm around his ears.

Finn approaches with caution. Orgasm has softened the orb’s effect on him into a kind of lustful curiosity, but he’s still wary, still far less confident inside Kylo’s lethal range than Rey is. Crouching down, he puts a hand on Kylo’s thigh and watches the muscle twitch.

When Finn touches up higher, Kylo moans in a way that vibrates between Rey’s legs and distracts her from everything else. She grinds, sinking her weight down onto him, and he’s snatching desperate huffs of breath through his nose and digging his fingers into the flesh of her ass. She doesn’t care that she can feel his lungs spasming and his jaw aching, doesn’t care that their bond is so wide open and vivid that she can taste her own salt and the bitterness of Finn’s come in his mouth.

She does care when she feels what Finn is doing: a spit-slick finger circles the rim of Kylo’s ass, and the shock of it, the _newness_ of it makes her moan aloud. She rocks harder, rubbing until Kylo’s mouth feels bruised and his chin is slippery with her wetness. It’s so much. So intense. So impossibly hard to keep track of which feelings belong to her. But it doesn’t matter because she’s coming again, lost to everything except the white-hot spasms of release.

When it ends, she’s half-tempted to stay sitting where she is on Kylo’s face. But he needs to breathe – the game’s only fun for as long as he stays conscious. She falls off to the side and he gulps down lungfuls of humid jungle air, eyes closed and face slack and body shaking uncontrollably. There’s a shiny pool of precome on his stomach. Finn has two fingers buried inside him up to the last knuckle, working in and out and making Kylo’s cock twitch with every thrust.

‘Finn,’ she says. ‘I think he’s earned it.’

‘Yeah, what the hell,’ says Finn huskily. ‘This can’t get any weirder than it already is.’

When Finn’s lips wrap around the tip of his cock, Kylo’s self-control finally snaps. He groans and jerks his hips up, grabbing Finn’s head none too gently, and before it can escalate, Rey intervenes with all the strength her shaky body can muster. The orb’s power makes it surprisingly easy. She reaches out in the Force and finds Kylo’s windpipe, pressing down, and he convulses and lets go of Finn immediately. She feels a surge of panic-tinged excitement so sharp that she can hardly tell it’s his and not hers, and then suddenly it’s all too much. Kylo falls apart with a silent scream, choked for breath, shaking and jolting as Finn curls his fingers inside and swallows every last drop.

And then, finally, stillness.

The energy around them drops so fast that it leaves Rey dizzy. There’s a rumbling in the Force like the satisfied purr of some vast cosmic cat, and the light all around them is fading – retreating back into the orb, leaving night air and a strange, sleepy heaviness in its wake.

Kylo goes out like a light. Finn, blinking, rests his head on Kylo’s thigh and shows every sign of following suit.

It’s probably a bad idea to fall asleep in the jungle using their mortal enemy for a pillow. On the other hand, it’s like Finn said – it’s not like today can get any weirder. There are definitely some issues that they’re going to have to deal with in the very near future. But fuck it – Rey’s head feels like a rock, and it can’t possibly hurt to close her eyes for a few moments and give her heart rate a chance to slow.

Just a few moments. Just a few –

* * *

A beam of morning light filters through the canopy and rouses Rey from sleep. She sits up, stiff and uncomfortable and sticky in some interesting places. Her head has been resting on a gnarled tree root and there are bits of dead fern stuck to her skin and hair.

Finn’s fast asleep beside her. There’s no sign at all of Kylo, and Rey feels a sharp pang of regret before her sleepy brain kicks into gear and reminds her that’s almost certainly a good thing.

There’s a bundle of scuffed leather beside Finn’s head. At some point in the night or early dawn, Kylo must have gotten up and thrown the jacket back over the orb. He hasn’t killed them in their sleep. He hasn’t called his stormtroopers to arrest them. He hasn’t even taken the damn thing he came for.

Blinking muzzily up at the canopy above, Rey feels the beginning of a reluctant smile that she’s glad no one else will ever know about.


End file.
